


The Edge of All We Know

by TooGoodToBeBad



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Although "humor" is probably a stretch, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Game(s), Some crude humor, You can pretend it's funny if you want to, sort of background Sylvain/Mercedes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooGoodToBeBad/pseuds/TooGoodToBeBad
Summary: Ashe and Ingrid are two stalwart knights in His Majesty's service. When the Margrave handpicks them for a special mission to the tropical nation of Brigid, they find themselves questioning whether there might be more to life than just being knights.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dorothea Arnault & Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe and Ingrid receive a summons from the Margrave.

The scents of leather and weapons oil might have been repulsive to some people.

Not to Ingrid. If the concept of “knighthood” could be so perfectly captured in a scent, oil and leather was probably a good choice. It was familiar — it was routine. It reminded her of training, weapons maintenance, the calm before the battle.

With the air thick with that all too familiar mixture, Ingrid took a deep breath and pushed the doors to the knights’ hall open.

She was immediately greeted by the sound of a dozen different conversations and the sight of another dozen faces turned her way. Weapons hanging on racks glimmered in the sunlight. As she made her way in, she could barely hear the sound of her own footsteps amidst all the hubbub. In fact, she very nearly missed Ashe calling out to her until she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Ingrid!” he said with a twinkle in his pale green eyes. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“Ashe,” she replied with a wide and easy smile. “What’s going on?”

“I’m heading into town tonight with Dane, Marin, Giles, and Tybalt.” He cocked his head towards the corner of the hall, where their fellow knights were conversing. “They wanted me to ask you if you wanted to come with.”

Ingrid eyed the group of knights warily. “Who’s picking the place? The last time Giles picked-”

“Is why he’s not allowed to pick the place for the next three moons,” Ashe laughed as he brushed loose strands of grey hair away from his eyes. “It’s Dane’s pick this time.”

“So we’re finally getting good ale?”

“And no burnt soup,” Ashe added with a chuckle. “Are you coming? It won’t be the same without you, and the Goddess knows how long it’s been since we’ve properly relaxed.”

She let out a tiny laugh of her own, hidden behind a gloved hand. “Alright, I’ll be there. I’ll see you at lunch later?”

Before Ashe could reply, the doors to the knights’ hall swung open again, and Ingrid could make out the imposing frame of Dedue standing in the doorway. Reflexively, Ingrid straightened her posture, and when Ashe turned to see where she was looking, he did the same. Elsewhere, every other knight in the hall quickly stood at attention. 

From the doorway, Dedue stood stiffly, looking slightly uncomfortable, not that Ingrid could blame him. Still, Dimitri had made it clear that Dedue was to be afforded the respect befitting that of one of the king’s closest advisors, even if Dedue thought it was “not entirely necessary.” 

When the man from Duscur nodded his head ever so slightly, the knights stood at ease.

“Sir Ashe and Dame Ingrid,” Dedue announced, and his even and commanding tone echoed off the walls of the room. “You two are being summoned by His Majesty.”

In an instant, Ingrid could feel every pair of eyes in the room turn her way, and from the way Ashe was shuffling his feet nervously, so did he. Her skin crawled at the way the weight of the room’s gaze felt palpable, like a heavy shroud upon her shoulders.

“Immediately?” Ashe asked, and Ingrid could sense the anxious energy laced through his voice.

Dedue nodded. “Yes. Immediately. Please follow me.”

Ingrid could feel everyone’s eyes trained on her back, watching as she and Ashe stepped out and Dedue shut the doors behind them. The trio walked in silence down the halls of the palace, and when Ashe looked at her and mouthed the word “what?” at her, she could only shrug in response.

“I suppose you two have several questions regarding the nature of this summoning,” Dedue said as he walked ahead of them. The sound of his boots clicking against the floor felt vaguely ominous. 

“We do, actually,” Ingrid replied.

“His Majesty will explain everything, and should he fail to do so adequately, then I shall do my best to fill in the gaps,” Dedue replied, and the three of them entered the throne room.

It was still amazing to Ingrid to see how little the throne room had changed since she was little. The walls were lined with tapestries adorned with legends from the past, and the glorious battles of Loog and Kyphon were vividly depicted in rich colors for all to see. They were sources of amazement and awe when she was younger, and even now they were as inspiring as they were before.

Their footsteps were muffled by the rich and lush carpet on the floor, and each step closer towards the throne and their king.

Dimitri’s good eye widened in recognition as they approached, and a smile crossed his face. Still, Ingrid didn’t miss the way his fingers were erratically tapping against the armrest of his throne.

“Ashe, Ingrid! It is good to see you two.” He beamed at them. “Tell me, how was the latest deployment? I trust those bandits were dealt with?”

“Your Majesty,” Ashe began. “It was-”

“Very good. I will read about it later from Captain Oswald’s report,” Dimitri cut him off. “The truth of the matter is that there is something more… pressing to discuss.”

Ingrid narrowed her eyes at the king. From the tapping of his fingers to the nervousness laced through his voice, she could tell something was off, and it gnawed at her bones like a dreadful omen.

“Anyway, do the two of you remember our good friend, Sylvain?” Dimitri continued, albeit somewhat stiltedly. “From the Academy and the war? He’s currently the Margrave, and he’s written a letter-”

“Your Majesty,” Dedue interjected. “Pardon my interruption, but I think it is best for both of us if I explain the situation to them.”

Dimitri’s blue eye blinked slowly and he let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, I believe that would be most prudent. Please, Dedue.”

The man from Duscur nodded his head and made his way besides Dimitri.

“The Margrave has written to us,” he said simply. “And he has handpicked the two of you for a special mission.”

Something in Ingrid’s chest tightened, and she could feel her fingers curl into a fist, and that nervous energy that started clinging to her when she entered the throne room started to settle like a weight in the pit of her stomach.

“He wrote a letter explaining the situation,” Dedue continued, “but given the rather sensitive nature of the mission-”

From his seat, Dimitri let out a strangled wheeze that sounded almost like a laugh.

“Your Majesty.” Dedue raised a curious eyebrow at him. “Perhaps if you are unwell, you should excuse yourself from the room. No one here will think ill of you, and I am capable of briefing our friends on the situation at hand.”

The king dragged a gloved hand down his face. “I suppose you’re right. Please do excuse me. I trust you have this handled?”

“I do.”

Dimitri let out a deep sigh, and slowly his hulking frame rose from the throne. On his way out, he placed a friendly hand on Ashe’s shoulder, and the other on Ingrid’s. 

“I wish you two the best of luck,” he said solemnly.

“You can count on us, Your Majesty!” Ashe nodded his head vigorously. “And please give the Archbishop our regards.”

The laugh that escaped the king was the first thing in this whole encounter Ingrid believed in. 

“I shall do that. Take care of yourselves, Ingrid and Ashe.” Dimitri gave the two of them polite nods before he walked out of the throne room.

For a moment the room was filled with a heavy and pregnant silence. Ashe shifted nervously as he stood, and Dedue’s face was as unreadable as ever.

“As I was saying, due to the rather sensitive nature of the mission, the letter is sparse on details,” Dedue continued. “But the Margrave and the Margravine will be here in the palace later today to give you the necessary details. Expect a summons this afternoon, so do not stray too far from the palace today. That is all. Any questions?”

Ashe raised his hand like he was still a student. “Yes, actually. I have several-”

“The Margrave will answer any and all questions you may have.”

“Oh.” Ashe’s hand slowly lowered until it was back by his side. 

“That is all. You are dismissed.”

* * *

“I don’t think pacing around the room will make Sylvain appear any faster.” The sound of Ashe’s voice snapped Ingrid out of her reverie, and she stopped in her tracks. Her green eyes blinked slowly at him, but the warm smile he offered her did nothing to put her nerves at ease.

“You can sit with me, you know.” He patted the space beside him. “This couch is big enough for the both of us, and it’s pretty comfortable.”

Ingrid let out a deep sigh before plopping down beside him. 

At least the couch was comfortable.

“Do you think we’ll be finished here in time for dinner later?” he asked from beside her.

“Ashe!” she chided. “How can you think about dinner at a time like this? Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

His face paled, and his freckles were suddenly more pronounced (not that she knew why she noticed in the first place). “Like how?”

Ingrid leaned in towards him and lowered her voice to a hush. “It’s more a gut feeling than anything, but-”

Her words were cut off by a knock at the door, and she froze. From his seat, Ashe gulped nervously, and his fingers curled into a fist against the fabric of the cushion. The heavy door creaked open, and in stepped one of the many servants of the palace. In her arms she carried a tray that was laden with an assortment of meats and cheeses.

“The Margrave requested I bring this up to the room,” the servant said as she set the tray on the low table before them. She bowed deeply before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Ingrid waited until the door clicked shut before turning her attention back to Ashe. 

“As I was saying, it’s more of a gut feeling at the moment, but…” she trailed off when she saw the dumb grin on his face. “What?”

“Are you gonna eat?” 

She rolled her eyes at that, but she couldn’t fight the smile that crossed her face, or the little laugh that escaped her.

“As I was saying,” she continued after swallowing a piece of particularly sharp cheese, “something doesn’t sit right with me. Did you notice how His Majesty was acting earlier?”

Ashe nodded before taking a bite of a piece of crispy ham. 

“He was nervous, and Dedue was evasive. Plus, Sylvain-”

“Don’t you trust Sylvain?” he asked incredulously.

“I _know_ Sylvain,” she replied. “So either this is a really big deal, or-”

“I don’t think Sylvain would send us to our dooms or anything,” he interjected.

Ingrid nodded. “Right, neither do I. That means there’s only one option — Sylvain is up to no good.”

The sound of heavy-set footsteps outside alerted them to another presence just outside the room. Ashe leaned forward and cocked his head towards the door, wary and alert. There were voices outside.

A nervous tremble made its way down Ingrid’s spine — she’d recognize Sylvain’s voice anywhere. Without a sound, she rose from the couch, nabbed another piece of ham, and made her way to the wall, straining for even the foggiest clue of what was going on.

And she could hear Sylvain on the other side of the wall.

“... and I know we’re risking a lot with this, but I took care to really plan this out. Just trust me on this, Mercedes.” The Margrave’s tone was unsettlingly confident.

“I know you did,” a softer, fairer voice that sounded an awful lot like Mercedes replied. “But if this goes wrong-”

“It won’t, dear.”

“I’m just saying, they might never be the same after all of this.”

Whatever Sylvain said next, Ingrid missed due to the sound of her heartbeat raging in her ears. The entire day had felt like a terrible omen for some dreadful fate. 

Sylvain’s voice shocked her back into reality. “Wait, I think this the door.”

It only took a split second for Ingrid to regain control of her senses, and she hastily walked back down to the couch.

“Did you hear anything?” Ashe asked curiously.

“I’ll tell you later,” was all she managed to say before the door opened.

Both Ashe and Ingrid quickly stood up, and in strode Mercedes, elegant as ever. 

“Oh, Ashe! Ingrid! It’s lovely to see you two again!” she cried out excitedly and quickly wrapped the pair in a warm hug. 

“It’s been too long, Mercedes.” Ingrid smiled brightly, forcedly at her friend. “I trust you’ve adjusted well to the life of a margravine?”

“Well, I’m getting there,” Mercedes laughed, and despite Ingrid’s earlier fears, Mercedes’ soothing presence was almost enough to put her at ease.

Key word being _almost_.

“Sylvain!” Ashe called out, and once again the knot of dread coiled in the pit of Ingrid’s gut tightened.

Sure enough, there Sylvain was — his hair still as fiery as ever, his hazel eyes still as mischievous as ever.

The only discernible difference was the unfortunate pencil mustache that had taken residence above his upper lip.

“Ingrid, Ashe! I’m glad the two of you are here,” Sylvain said cheerily. “Please sit. I see you’ve already helped yourself to the snacks I had sent up. I’m sure the two of you have a lot of questions, so I’ll just get right into it. Feel free to eat while I talk — there’s a lot to explain.”

The pair of knights nodded, and the Margrave’s smile widened.

“Here’s what’s going on: I need the two of you to go to Brigid. I’ve received intel from my network of spies and informants that there is a wanted criminal hiding there. This lowlife was a well-off merchant who sided with the Dukedom in the war. Apparently he was promised a high-ranking position and a not-insubstantial piece of Gautier territory in exchange for financing the Dukedom, so you can see why I’m keen to bring this guy in. The Queen of Brigid has already given me permission to send my people over and get this criminal. So your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to head to Brigid and bring this guy to justice. Any questions?”

Once again, Ashe raised his hand. “Yes, I have several.”

“So do I,” Ingrid chimed in. “Who else is coming with us, for starters?”

“Oh, nobody else,” Sylvain replied. “Just you two. We want to avoid any undue diplomatic incidents from sending a battalion of knights into former Empire territory. It's a 'bad look', so you two will need to keep this quiet and discreet.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Ashe asked, the alarm very apparent in his voice.

“Not at all! According to my info, this guy was a wheat merchant, so he doesn’t know how to fight or anything. He’s got no connections in Brigid, either. He’s all alone, and he’s no match for the two best knights in His Majesty’s service. And once you’re in Brigid, I have a contact who’ll help you out. You’ll meet them as soon as you dock.”

“Alright.” Ashe nodded, seemingly convinced. “Do you want this guy alive or dead?”

“Dead,” Sylvain said.

“Alive,” Mercedes also said.

Ingrid could feel her mouth twist into a frown, and a nervous suspicion ate at her. “So which is it, then?”

The Margrave and the Margravine shared a look before Sylvain cleared his throat. “Alive would be ideal, but if he proves to be a threat or just a real pain in the ass, it’d be no skin off my nose if he died.”

“A threat?” Ashe interjected. “But you said-”

“On the off chance that he is a threat.” Sylvain waved him off with a nonchalant flick of the wrist.

Ingrid narrowed her eyes at the smiling couple standing before her. “When do you need us to leave?”

“Tomorrow.” Sylvain grinned. “It’ll take you a few days to fly to Fódlan’s Fangs. You can leave your mounts there, and I’ve arranged for a boat to take you to Brigid. I’ll give you paperwork and everything, in case you run into trouble.”

Beside her, Ashe nodded like this was all fine and dandy, even though it was painfully apparent to Ingrid that it was everything but.

“Wait,” she cut in. “What’s this man’s name?”

The smile dropped from Sylvain’s face. “His what now?”

“His name,” Ingrid repeated. “You never gave us his name.”

Sylvain idly stroked at his stupid-looking pencil mustache. “That’s the thing — he’s got a whole bunch of false identities, which is why he’s been hard to track. But we’ve figured out his assumed identity in Brigid. He goes by the name Thorgan Guilliman.”

A strange clicking noise escaped from Mercedes’ throat. “But I thought we agreed that his name was Roboute Guilliman.”

Even Ashe raised an eyebrow at that. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Mercedes, dear,” Sylvain chuckled nervously. “We _agreed_ that Roboute was a dumb name. Felix was very quick to point that out.”

“Felix also said this plan was ‘monumentally stupid’, so I don’t see why his opinion has any weight right now,” Mercedes said.

A dozen different thoughts raced through Ingrid’s mind. The more she thought about it, the less this whole affair made sense. Dangerous ideas dangled like loose threads in the back of her mind, and if she just pulled hard enough, it felt like the whole story would come undone.

“Why is Felix involved with this?” she asked hesitantly.

Sylvain smirked at her, almost as if he was expecting this and had an answer easily prepared. “Because he’s my best friend, and I wanted to make sure this was a good idea. He said it wasn’t, which meant that it was. Annette was a tad more enthusiastic about this.”

That part felt true; It was the only thing Sylvain said that evening that she believed in.

“So.” Sylvain’s smirk widened into a lopsided and toothy grin. “Are you two in?”

“Could Ashe and I maybe have a moment to discuss this?”

“Of course.” Mercedes gave her one of her infuriatingly indecipherable smiles.

Before either Sylvain or Mercedes could say anything else, Ingrid rose from the couch, grabbed Ashe’s wrist and led him outside.

When she felt they were far enough from Sylvain’s stupid face and any prying ears, she said, “I don’t like it. Something’s up; they were talking outside a while ago about us. They said that we might never be the same after this. This all just seems really fishy to me.”

“If you think so, then so do I. You’re usually not wrong when it comes to these things,” Ashe agreed.

His words left a pleasant warmth buzzing in her chest, which cut through the nervous energy coursing through her veins. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He smiled warmly at her. “And you can let go of my wrist now.”

“Oh, Saints!” she exclaimed as she let go and tried to ignore the warm tickle at the tips of her ears. “I didn’t realize.”

“No worries,” Ashe laughed. “But back to the matter at hand — what do we do?”

“We don’t know what Sylvain’s endgame is, and that’s what’s got me uneasy,” Ingrid mused.

“It seems too well-planned to just be a dumb prank,” he offered. “I mean, there’s a tiny — tiny, mind you — chance that Sylvain’s telling the truth and he needs us to go to Brigid and kick ass in the name of justice.”

“But are you willing to take that chance?”

“If I’ve got you by my side, I’m willing to take on anything.”

Ingrid’s words caught in her throat, and she could feel her cheeks warm a bit at his words. “That’s comforting, Ashe. It really is. But what do we do?”

The smile on his face widened into a dumb, goofy grin. “I’ve got a crazy idea.”

“You don’t mean-”

“I do. I for one want to know what’s going on. Don’t you? Everyone else from our class seems to have been aware of this in some capacity. His Majesty, Dedue, even the Duke and Duchess! Whatever this is, it’s something big, and I want us to get to the bottom of it.”

“You know, you’re right.” Ingrid could feel her resolve strengthen from something as simple as Ashe’s infectious determination. “We’ve been left in the dark, and we are going to figure this out.”

Ashe clapped her on the shoulder. “There’s the Ingrid I’d follow into battle.”

And as she marched alongside Ashe back into the room, Ingrid felt sure of something for the first time that day.

* * *

The journey south was uneventful, which was a blessing. Ashe and Ingrid were pleasantly surprised with clear skies on their flight towards Fódlan’s Fangs, and sure enough, there was a boat waiting for them.

After presenting the documents Sylvain very helpfully prepared for them, they were able to board without incident. All that was left to do was wait.

At least the ocean was pretty. 

“You know,” Ashe said from beside her as the two of them leaned on the railing and watched the indomitably deep blue of the ocean break underneath their ship, “the last time I was on a boat was when we went to Brigid to rescue Petra’s grandfather.”

“I think that was the last time for me as well. I remember Felix and Sylvain got seasick on both the journey there and the journey back. That was funny,” Ingrid replied with a laugh.

“They very nearly missed the battle,” Ashe chuckled. “But I can’t blame them. Saints, I’m not cut out for the life of a sailor. All this motion is really doing a number on my stomach.”

Ingrid nodded, uncertain of the way the ground rocked with every wave and sent her stomach lurching and the way the wind tasted of salt and sent her hair flying everywhere. “Neither am I, I think.”

Ashe lazily combed his windswept grey hair with his fingers and opened his mouth to say something when the loud voice of the ship’s captain cut through the air like an arrow.

“Land ho! Brigid’s just up ahead!”

Even though Ingrid had been to Brigid exactly once before, the sheer verdancy of the island still took her breath away. From their ship, she could see the rich and deep greens of the forest, and the soft white hues of the sand along the beach looked very inviting. The closer they got to shore, the clearer the water got until it felt like looking through glass. Ashe and Ingrid gasped in excitement as they could make out countless fish swimming just beneath the surface of the water.

Ingrid very nearly forgot her troubles until she spotted a dozen people waiting by the dock. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, and her tongue began to feel like lead in her mouth.

“Ashe.” She patted her friend’s arm aggressively. “Sylvain said this was to be a discreet mission, right?”

“Yeah, he did,” Ashe replied, not tearing his eyes away from the vibrant colors of the island.

“So what the hell is that crowd of people doing over there?”

He turned his gaze towards the dock, and a deep and heavy frown crossed his face. “I haven’t the slightest clue. Maybe they’re not for us?”

As the boat got closer to shore, Ingrid’s skin began to crawl while a ball of anxious energy settled in her chest and afflicted her heartbeat. The dock drew nearer and nearer, and sure enough, someone in the crowd was waving the flag of Faerghus.

So much for being discreet.

By her side, Ashe gulped nervously as the crew set up the gangway. If there was still a sliver of hope that this welcome committee was not meant for them, it was shredded to pieces the moment Ingrid spotted a banner that read “Welcome to Brigid, Sir Ashe and Dame Ingrid!”

“I think they’re here for us,” Ashe laughed nervously. “Let’s get this over with?”

She only managed a tiny nod before the two of them descended down the gangway. As soon as their feet hit the dock, a sweet and melodious voice called out to them.

“Welcome to Brigid!”

Ingrid tried her best to put on a polite smile as Dorothea stepped out from the crowd in a blood-red sundress, still as radiant and as beautiful as ever. She gave the two knights a wide smile that reached the corners of her emerald eyes before closing the distance and between them and wrapping them both in a warm embrace.

“Ashe! Ingrid! It’s been too long! Thank you so much for coming!”

“Dorothea,” Ingrid began. “What-”

The songstress cut her off with a clap of her hands, and before Ingrid could react, a garland was placed around her neck and a coconut was placed in her arms. It took a lot of willpower to stop herself from yelping like some kind of surprised woman. 

“I hope you two are ready for a week of good old Brigid hospitality!” Dorothea grinned at them. “There’s a carriage waiting for us. I’m sure you two are excited to see everything.”

Left with no other choice but to follow, Ingrid bit back a curse and walked behind Dorothea.

“Hey,” Ashe whispered from beside her. “What do you think is going on?”

She turned to him and let out a resigned sigh. “I don’t know. All I know is that when we get back, I’m going to kill Sylvain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback and comments are appreciated! I hope you guys stick around for the rest of the chapters. It won't be terribly long, but after so many one-and-dones I felt like it was time to try my hand at multi-chapters once again. Next part's dropping soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe and Ingrid drop by the Royal Palace.

The very first thing Ingrid noticed about Brigid was that it was, as Sylvain liked to say, “hot as balls.”

“Saints, this place is hot as balls,” Ashe mumbled beside her while uselessly fanning himself with one hand.

“Don’t start,” Ingrid grumbled under her breath. “I hate that stupid phrase. The last thing I want right now is to think of Sylvain, because so help me Goddess, I will kick his ass all over Faerghus once we get back.”

“The heat’s not so bad once you get used to it, Ashe,” Dorothea chimed in from her seat across them, with the wind in her chestnut-brown hair as their carriage moved. “You two should try the coconut water. It’s refreshing. Freshly prepared, too! I had those hacked open as soon as I saw your ship on the horizon.”

“There’s water in this?” Ashe asked incredulously.

Ingrid glared at the green fruit in her hands. There was a hole hacked into it, and when she peered inside, she could make out the water swilling about within. By her side, Ashe hesitantly raised the fruit to his lips and took a sip.

“Hey, that’s pretty good!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Go on, Ingrid, try it!”

Fighting a grimace, she took a swig from the coconut and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet, refreshing, almost nutty taste of the water within. It was a welcome distraction from the sweltering heat that bore down on them from a bright Brigid sun.

“Don’t you worry, dears, we’re nearly at the palace now, so we’ll be out of the sun soon enough. I know how much you two adore food, so I had them whip up the best meal that Brigid has to offer,” Dorothea prattled on excitedly. “In the meantime, do enjoy the view. I doubt Faerghus looks anything like this. It’s so drab and grey up north, I’d imagine.”

“... it is,” Ingrid admitted. 

Truth be told, Brigid was very pretty. Palm trees lined the shore, which was covered in a soft blanket of snow-white sand. Mountains rose in the distance to break into the clear blue sky, and forests climbed up the mountainsides like moss on a river rock. Countless colors lined their path as they passed the different exotic fruits and flowers on their way to the palace.

Even from where they were, the ocean looked cool and inviting. Its crystal clear hue was something else compared to the deep and frigid blues of the coasts up north. Gentle waves lapped lazily at the sand like a soft and pleasant welcoming touch.

The whole island seemed to be bathed in a warm and inviting sunlight that left everything looking vibrant and alive. 

If only it wasn’t so damned hot.

“Listen, I know you’re knights and all, but you didn’t _have_ to wear your armor all the way here!” Dorothea giggled as she watched Ashe wipe the sweat from his brow. “It’s not like you two are on a mission or anything.”

Ingrid opened her mouth to insist that yes, they were there on a top-secret mission, thank you very much, when she was cut off by the sound of drumming in the background and the pleasant notes of a lute teasing at her ears. A quick look ahead revealed a majestic palace made of wood and stone looming over the horizon. In front of the palace waited what looked to be a very enthusiastic group of musicians to welcome them.

“Oh, we’re here!” Dorothea clapped excitedly. “I hope you two worked up an appetite!”

* * *

“That is _a lot_ of food,” Ashe said under his breath excitedly.

Despite her sour mood, Ingrid couldn’t deny that the scents wafting towards her and teasing at her senses smelled anything less than appetizing, or that her stomach was growling at the sight of all the food arrayed before them.

The tabletop was covered with large leaves, and heaps of food were piled high atop it. Ingrid could make out fish, pork, chicken, crab legs, and even sliced fruits all delicately placed on a bed of what Dorothea said was called “rice.”

“This,” Dorothea said as she gestured to the table before them, “is a traditional Brigid meal to showcase hospitality towards visitors. All we need to do now is wait for dear Petra to show up, and then we can eat.”

“Petra?” Ashe exclaimed incredulously.

“Yes, the one and only queen herself. Really, when she heard you two were coming over to visit, she was so excited to see her old friends again! We don’t really get a lot of visitors, you know, but we’re trying to cultivate that reputation for ourselves and become a go-to destination. It’ll do wonders for our economy, but I won’t bore you with any of _that_.”

The sound of a melodic gong in the background signaled the arrival of the Queen of Brigid herself. Her plum colored hair was still in the same intricate style she wore in the war, but the ceremonial headdress, the golden necklace, and the deep cerulean cloak on her shoulders showed that the smiling woman who strode into the room was now more than just a fellow student at the academy. She was now royalty.

When she saw them, her regal smile widened into a toothy grin, and she nearly sprinted towards the two knights. Or just Ashe, really.

“Ashe! It is so good to see you again! My heart is filled with gladness that you are here visiting my lovely homeland!” She wrapped the grey-haired knight in a very tight hug. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Petra. Feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” Ashe chuckled and patted her on the back affectionately, although the words sounded like they were being squeezed out of his lungs. 

Petra let go of him, turned to Ingrid, and gave her an equally friendly but less bone-crushing hug. “Ingrid! It is good to be seeing you in Brigid as well!”

“Thank you for having us, Petra,” Ingrid replied. 

“Do not be mentioning it! I am having sureness that my friends are having a large appetite, so let us not be waiting. It is time for eating.” Petra smiled widely and gestured to the heaps of food before them.

Needing no invitation, the two knights eagerly approached the table. Without a sound, Ingrid studied the setup before her and noticed one other thing aside from all the food: the distinct lack of cutlery.

Before she could ask about that, she saw an assistant hand Petra and Dorothea shallow bowls of water. Almost immediately after, she and Ashe were given their own bowls as well.

“It’s for your hands,” Dorothea explained, almost as if she could sense the incoming question. “You don’t want to get dirt and grime all over the food.”

“In Brigid, this traditional meal is being eaten with the using of the hands,” Petra added. “After all, the hands are being the greatest tool that is given to us by the spirits.”

Once she was certain her hands were sufficiently cleaned, Ingrid reached out and picked up a particularly juicy looking piece of grilled pork and what looked like an appropriate amount of rice. With a hesitant smile on her face, she turned to Ashe, who held a piece of dried fish and some rice between his fingertips.

“Cheers, Ingrid,” Ashe laughed uneasily. She laughed back and bumped her hand against his before shoving the food in her mouth.

Brigid may have been unbearably hot, but the food was nothing short of scrumptious.

The meats were grilled and seasoned to perfection with flavors that Ingrid didn’t even know how to explain, and she couldn’t fight the eager grin that was forming on her face. The fish was perfectly salted, the fruits just the right sweetness, and the crab was simply exquisite. The chewy white grains of rice provided the perfect balance to round out the flavors of Brigid.

“When I was being told by Dorothea that the two of you were visiting Brigid for a vacation,” Petra began, “I was first being very surprised, but-”

“Vacation?” The surprise was very apparent in Ashe’s tone, and his green eyes widened before he realized that he’d just interrupted the queen herself.

“Yes, vacation! That is what it is being called in Fódlan, yes? When you are going to a different place so that your souls may be relaxing and refreshing?” Petra answered, not minding very much that she was interrupted in the first place. 

“Who said anything about a vacation?” Ingrid blurted out and nearly dropped the crab leg in her hand.

“Dorothea did,” Petra replied with a smile on her face.

The two now very unamused knights narrowed their eyes at Dorothea, who only shrugged nonchalantly.

“I will admit,” she began, not sounding particularly concerned, “that when Sylvain wrote to me saying that you two were thinking of visiting, I had my doubts. Ingrid and Ashe, on vacation? I figured hell would freeze over before you two ever took a break.”

“We’re not on vacation,” both Ashe and Ingrid said at the same time.

Petra raised an eyebrow at them, and Dorothea’s lips curved upwards in a tiny smirk.

“We were told,” Ingrid began, “that there was a dangerous criminal here in Brigid, and-”

Dorothea’s eyes lit up in unashamed amusement, and she stifled a giggle behind a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, _that’s_ how Sylvain convinced you two to come here. I suspected you two would never drop by of your own volition.”

Ingrid could taste the bile creeping up her throat as the full extent of Sylvain’s treachery was revealed to them, exposed to the bones for the sham that they had fallen into.

Such was their fate — tricked into a vacation.

“Wait,” Ashe mumbled as he fiddled with a piece of fish. “So there’s no wanted criminal named Thorgan Guilliman hiding here?”

“I am thinking that is a very ridiculous sounding name!” Petra laughed. “I am wondering who could have been thinking of a name that silly? But there is no dangerous criminal here in Brigid. Any criminals would be having a terrible fate if they are escaping to Brigid.”

A very unpleasant and unwelcome heat burned at Ingrid’s cheeks and at the tips of her ears. “So this whole mission we’ve been sent on is a total fraud?”

“Sure sounds like it.” Dorothea at least tried to offer a sympathetic smile, and Ingrid hated how it looked so patronizing. “But really, I don’t quite think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be! I’m sure there are worse fates in the world than visiting Brigid, of all places. Why, when Sylvain and Mercedes were here just the other moon, they had such a lovely time together.”

“Good for them?” Ashe lamely offered.

“It was! They were having much enjoyment during their stay.” Petra nodded.

“And we’ve planned such a great itinerary for you two,” Dorothea chimed in. “We even got you accommodations by the shore, just a short walk away from here! Imagine waking up to an absolutely gorgeous sunrise over the ocean. Plus, I personally arranged for a boat ride on the Sionainn tomorrow. And in a few days, we’ve got a huge festival, and we’d love for you two to be there.”

“Ooh, yes!” Petra’s violet eyes lit up with a playful sparkle. “The Cóisir Mhór will be an occasion of much merriment and good times. It is being a celebration of Brigid’s culture, as well as a showcase of Brigid hospitality.”

“Do we have to go?” Ingrid asked pointedly before internally wincing at how rude she sounded.

“ _Have_ is a strong word,” Dorothea replied with a thin smile. “But really, do at least try to enjoy what we’ve planned. Maybe you’ll like it. How about this? You go on the river tour tomorrow, and if you want to go back to Faerghus, I’ll arrange for a boat back. You have my word on that.”

Ashe nodded at that. “Assuming we stay for as long as Sylvain planned, how long would that be?”

“After the Cóisir Mhór.”

Ashe met her gaze for a split second, but Ingrid knew how to read him well enough. _Are we in?_

Although the reasons escaped her, she found herself nodding almost imperceptibly, and he cracked a tiny smile at the sight of it.

He turned his head towards Petra and Dorothea. “That sounds fair.”

* * *

When Dorothea mentioned “accommodations by the shore”, Ingrid just sort of assumed that they’d be walking distance from the beach. It turned out the house was actually on the beach itself, yards away from where tiny waves gently crashed onto the shore.

The house was also on stilts. To protect against flooding, Dorothea had said. 

It was hard to stay upset when she could see the ocean from her window, when the beds provided were comfortable, when there was a hammock just outside the house. 

Never let it be said that Ingrid backed down from a challenge.

“You look upset,” Ashe commented wryly from the hammock that he’d been lying in for nearly ten minutes now.

“I wonder why,” Ingrid grumbled with her arms folded across her chest. Getting out of her armor and donning a linen tunic had at least made the heat more bearable, and she was at least thankful for the change of clothes they’d been given. She let out a deep sigh she kicked uselessly at the sand.

“How are you taking this so lightly?” she asked and walked over to him. “We were tricked into going here! We were deceived by a trusted friend, and when we get back, I’m going to whoop Sylvain’s ass.”

“And I will go with you to provide moral support and maybe sneak in a few shots of my own,” Ashe replied with a dry laugh. “But for now we’re pretty much stuck here until the day after tomorrow at the earliest. We might as well enjoy ourselves while we’re out here. Let’s not waste the time that we’ve been given. Don’t get me wrong — I’m mad at Sylvain as well, but let’s not take it out on Petra, Dorothea, or Brigid. This place is too beautiful for us to be so angry.”

Her shoulders sagged as she let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. With a spiritless grunt, she plopped down onto the sand, which felt smooth and fine underneath her feet.

“I know you’re right, Ashe, but I almost don’t want to enjoy myself right now. None of this sits right with me.”

“Would the hammock help?”

Ingrid shrugged but smiled despite herself. “It might.”

“Alright, let me just get out of this thing.” The smile was very apparent in his voice, and Ingrid could only watch with barely restrained amusement as she watched him flop about uselessly on the hammock in a vain attempt to escape it. 

“Do you need a hand?” she asked.

“You know, I think I might.”

With a bright laugh, she got up and offered him her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, leaving a very pleasant buzz tingling just beneath her skin from the sudden contact. Before long, Ashe was finally able to free himself from the clutches of the hammock.

When he was out, Ingrid almost hesitantly got in, and the gentle swaying was calming, if nothing else.

“I don’t know how to get out of this thing either, so you better not leave me here,” she chuckled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiled back at her, and for a moment Ingrid’s heart fluttered at his honesty.

A friendly silence filled the space between them, only broken by the sound of the ocean around them and the occasional caw of a sea bird. It felt strange to be able to relax like this, so far removed from her calling and her duty as a sworn knight. Ingrid wasn’t sure of the last time she’d felt a calm like this.

“Doesn’t this feel weird?” she asked suddenly.

“The hammock?” Ashe replied with a raised eyebrow. “Or the sand? Because I’ve seen some strange things crawling-”

“No, not that. Just this… _calm_. Not having anything to do. Not having anywhere to be.”

He chuckled at that and leaned against the tree at her feet. “It does, actually. I didn’t think I’d ever know what that was like. I guess fighting a five-year long war and then becoming knights immediately after has left us with a scarcity of free time. It’s nice, though.”

“It is.” Ingrid nodded along. “But there’s some silly part of me that doesn’t want to let Sylvain win.”

“Are you willing to throw away this vacation to prove a point?”

“You bought into this whole ‘vacation’ real quick,” she retorted. For a heartbeat, some unreadable expression flickered on Ashe’s face like some sort of ghost.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “That was uncalled for.”

“No, you’re right,” Ashe replied with a sheepish smile. “It’s just… well, worse things have happened to me. To us. If we can get over how we got here and find some new perspective, I think that this might actually be a good thing for us. There are worse fates for me than being trapped in a tropical paradise with you.”

Her cheeks burned with something unfamiliar, and it couldn’t be blamed on the tropical sunshine over their heads. “That’s really sweet of you to say, Ashe.”

He blushed weakly at her words and let out a little laugh. “I’m just being honest, is all.”

In the quiet that followed, she wondered why her heartbeat felt so erratic within her chest.

* * *

When the night took over and the moon and stars came out of hiding to smile down on the island, it was hard to tell where the sea ended and where the sky began. The entire horizon was just a deep blue-black dotted with stars in the sky and the moon overhead.

They’d stolen a blanket and a couple of pillows from the house and huddled by a fire to better feel the embrace of the foreign but familiar stars.

In the dying firelight, Ingrid could just barely make out the features on Ashe’s face, but his easy smile was still as bright as ever, and his eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own.

“The stars sure are pretty tonight.” He whistled appreciatively.

She turned her gaze towards the sky, where little pinpricks of starlight flickered like fireflies in the night. “It’s a gorgeous view, isn’t it?”

“Before, on nights like these, I would just lie in the grass with my siblings and watch the constellations in the sky.” He grinned at her. “Lord Lonato even had a book full of them. He taught me all the important ones — the Bear, the Hunter, the Maiden, and the Wolf.”

She smiled widely at him. “My father hired a tutor for me when I was younger, and he mentioned those, too. Do you think we can see them from here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We’re pretty far south.”

A cool night breeze blew past her, and she returned her gaze to the sky ahead of them, just above the waves that crashed on the shore.

“Do you think Brigid has their own constellations?” Ingrid asked.

“I don’t doubt it. Heck, we can always make our own. That’s what I used to do with my siblings. We’d lie on the ground and just use our imaginations.”

“That’s so cute!” she giggled. “What’d you come up with?”

If it wasn’t for the cover of darkness, Ingrid was sure Ashe was blushing. “My sister always claimed she could see a loach in the sky. My brother claimed he saw a lion.”

“Did you make any?” she pried and nudged him with her shoulder.

“I did, actually,” he laughed. “It looked like a sword. Why don’t you try to make one?”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Ingrid flopped backwards onto the blanket they sat on and pulled a pillow close to rest her head on. 

“Hmm,” she mulled it over and scanned through the myriad lights in the sky until she could piece together a constellation of her own. “I see a horse.”

“Where?”

She pointed her index finger at some arbitrary point in the sky. “That’s one leg, and-”

“Where are you pointing?”

The words were out of her mouth before she’d realized it. “Here, lie down with me, you’ll see what I’m pointing at.”

With a smile, Ashe lay down beside her. “Where’s the horse?”

His sudden proximity left her hyper aware of his presence and the way he shifted beside her.

“There,” she said softly and pointed again. “Do you see now? There’s the head, and there are the legs.”

“I think I see it. Good eye.” His grin was earnest, sincere, and something in her chest soared at the sight of it.

A deep and peaceful silence fell upon them, and the sound of waves breaking against sand already felt like familiar background noise. She could count her own heartbeats in the gentle hush that they found themselves embraced in, and for a moment she wondered if his heart was beating in sync with hers. What an odd thought. And like the fire before them, it was suddenly snuffed out.

“You know,” Ashe said suddenly. “I’ve been thinking a bit about this whole thing. And it makes me feel selfish, but just lying here with you and looking at these unfamiliar constellations almost makes me want to just stay in this moment forever.”

Ingrid shifted to face him. “No, I don’t think it’s selfish at all.”

There was a faint twinkle in his pale green eyes as he stared into the deep blue of the night sky. “Are you sure?”

“I’d say I’m about halfway sure,” she laughed, and the faintest of smiles crossed his face.

Shifting again so she could watch the stars, she continued, “I’ve also been thinking about what you’ve said. About finding a new perspective. Ashe, when was the last time we actually took the time to slow down and do what we wanted? And don’t say ‘getting knighted’, because you know what I mean.”

He chuckled something soft, and the sound of it faded away into the silence around them. “Would you believe me if I said that I didn’t know?”

“I would, because if you asked me the same question, I’d give you the same answer.”

“Do you think that maybe we’ve forgotten what it’s like to just be ourselves?” Ashe’s voice was now a hushed whisper. “Everything we’ve done, we’ve done as knights. Saints, even in our down time, we’re still knights. We were so hell-bent on achieving this goal, and now that we have… well, now I feel like I’m just rambling.”

“I get what you’re saying, though. It feels like we’re just finding out that there’s more to life than just being a knight.”

“Well, whatever else is out there, I feel like I’m ready for it as long as you’re with me.” There was a hazy, reverent, almost faraway tone in his voice, and his words drifted off into the sound of crashing waves.

It was hard to hear the waves with the way her heart was now pounding in her ears like an odd sort of lullaby that led her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! 
> 
> For me, Brigid's language is very Gaelic inspired (based on the fact that Brigid is an Irish goddess), and I actually asked around for a proper translation just to make sure that the phrase "Cóisir Mhór" was grammatically up to snuff.
> 
> Dorothea'll play a large part in this whole thing, especially in the next chapter. It'll be dropping soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe, Ingrid, and Dorothea go to the river.

Even with her eyes closed, Ingrid could almost see the sunrise. Warm light filtered through eyelids screwed shut, gently prodding her awake. She stirred, still hesitant to open her eyes. A soothing sense of calm washed over like the tide, and she felt embraced by a pleasant warmth. It felt like a current pulling her back into sleep.

She shifted again and began take in the various sounds and sensations around her, from the ever-present breaking of waves on sand, the strange caws and cries of exotic birds, Ashe’s snoring, the way his chest felt under her hand as it rose and fell in time with his breathing, the—

In an instant her eyes shot open. The first thing that she noticed was that the sunrise was absolutely gorgeous, bathing everything in warm tones of pink and orange like a pastel painting. The second thing was that she was very tangled up with Ashe. Her arm was draped over his chest, her chin rested on his shoulder, and she could feel his jaw pressed up against her forehead. With all the stealthy precision she could muster, she carefully tried to detach herself from his sleeping form.

Her shifting seemed to wake him. Halfway through her escape, Ingrid froze as she watched Ashe’s eyes flutter open, olive-green and crinkling at the corners as he gave her a half-awake smile. The moment only lasted a split second before his eyes widened in recognition and he hastily sat up and pulled away from her.

“Good morning?” Ingrid offered lamely.

“Ingrid!” Ashe cried out. “I-I-I didn’t realize that… I would never!”

She could feel her face burning with embarrassment. “Ashe, please! I didn’t mean to sleep with you!”

Ashe’s face turned a dark shade of crimson. “And I would never sleep with you!”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“But that’s what you said!”

She buried her face in her hands. “Yeah, but I didn’t mean it in that way!”

“Sorry! Saints, I’ll just shut up now.”

If there was a time for walking into the ocean and attempting to swim from Brigid to Fódlan, it was probably now. Alas, she was apparently honor bound to go on some river tour, and—

“Saints, Dorothea’s coming to pick us up for the tour, right?” she asked as she lifted her face from her hands.

“Yep,” Ashe mumbled, pointedly looking at anything but her. “Why?”

“We should clean up. I don’t want her asking questions about,” she gestured to the blankets and pillows, “all this.”

“I’ll just toss everything back into the house.” Ashe nodded and hesitantly got to his feet.

Ingrid watched as he packed everything away with rote, mechanical motions. The air between them felt heavy with words unspoken, and she was unsure if she should give voice to them. 

But any and all introspection had to be put on hold when Dorothea came into view, accompanied by a man who was ostensibly some sort of guide.

“I hope you two had a good night’s sleep!” Dorothea called out excitedly, and Ingrid felt her face heat up again. “I brought breakfast for you two! Granted, it’s just some dried fish and vegetables, but we’ll need to move soon! The Sionainn awaits us! Get changed into your travel clothes.”

* * *

After a quick change of clothes and a breakfast spent in silence, the guide Dorothea brought along (whose name sounded so complicated that Ingrid just gave up and referred to him as “the guide”) led them deep into the forest while yammering on factoids in a manner of speaking that reminded Ingrid of Petra. The surroundings were lush, the flowers were vibrant up close in a way that should have taken her breath away.

Instead, all she felt was anxiety gnawing at her bones.

“So,” Dorothea whispered as she fell into step beside Ingrid. “Did anything happen between you two last night?”

Ingrid shook her head vehemently, perhaps too vehemently to be convincing. “I don’t know what you mean, Dorothea.”

“Please, Ingrid, I’ve spent a lifetime learning to read people, so believe me when I say that you can’t fool me for a second. You two have been acting weird today. I don’t hear a peep out of you during breakfast, which is odd because both of you love food. And this whole journey so far has been strange. It’s almost as if — how do I put this? — your energy is off. Your mojo.”

“Is this a Brigid thing?”

“No, it’s a real-life thing.” Dorothea’s lips straightened into a tight line. “Ingrid, are you sure you’re alright?”

Ingrid let out a deep sigh before glancing at Ashe, who walked a few paces ahead of them and was listening intently to whatever their guide was saying.

“We… fell asleep together on the beach.”

Dorothea hid a sly smirk behind her hand. “Well, well, well! I'm impressed. Look at you! I’d imagine the sand wasn’t too comfortable, but, you do you.”

Immediately Ingrid felt a heat burn at her cheeks, and it rapidly spread down her neck and up to the tips of her ears. “No! That is absolutely not what happened! We _literally_ fell asleep together.”

The songstress let out a bright and clear laugh. “Is that what’s got you all stressed out?”

“If you’re just going to tease me about it, I’d really rather not hear it.”

“On the contrary, my dear Ingrid, I only want to help you. So I hope you’ll pardon my asking, but _so what_?”

Ingrid felt like folding in on herself under Dorothea’s piercing, scrutinizing gaze. “We ended up cuddling in our sleep.”

Dorothea’s mouth formed an o-shape before she clicked her tongue, and the cheeky grin returned. “Well, was it nice?”

If Ingrid wasn’t blushing before, she definitely was now. “I don’t know! And even if it was, that’s not what Ashe and I are. We don’t see each other that way.”

“Oh, Ingrid.” Dorothea’s smile was now equal parts sad and mischievous, but her eyes twinkled with something that almost looked like understanding. “What is it you’re so afraid of?”

“We trust each other, and I probably crossed some sort of barrier. That’s why he’s so uncomfortable around me.”

“If you genuinely think that’s the issue, then I don’t quite know what to tell you,” Dorothea let out an exaggeratedly forlorn sigh. “I’m going to ask you one question, and I want you to be honest.”

“Sure?”

“Are you still harboring that little crush on him from your Academy days?”

Ingrid’s jaw dropped, and the songstress laughed behind her hand.

“What are you—”

“You can try to deny it all you want, but the pretty little blush on your face says otherwise.” Dorothea winked and pinched her cheek like one would do to a baby. “Really, Sylvain and I used to talk about you sometimes. You two were always so buddy-buddy with each other, it was adorable! All that gushing about knights, all that time reading together, all those tea times, all those meals—”

“Were you two just spying on me in school?” Ingrid frowned.

“No, but you two were very conspicuous. If the two of you weren’t so cute I would’ve been sick of it. And when the two of you danced at the Ball, I just about swooned!”

“That was one dance!”

“I know,” Dorothea hummed in assent and cocked her head towards Ingrid. “But in case you didn’t know, Sylvain and Annette taught him to dance. And do you know _why_ he asked to learn?”

Ingrid gulped nervously — Dorothea’s tone left no room for misinterpretation. “To dance with me?”

“Right on.”

For a second, Ingrid’s breath caught in her throat, and within the confines of her ribcage her heart began to soar. The realization that Ashe went through such lengths just to dance with her left her heart fluttering like nothing else, and a foreign giddiness began to course through her veins. A quick and deliberate bite to the inside of her cheek was enough to bring her back to reality and act as an anchor to keep her head out of the clouds. 

“That was then,” Ingrid murmured, trying to keep her voice steady. “People change. We’ve changed. Besides, we’ve never voiced out anything other than mutual respect and admiration for each other as friends and companions. Do you really think that his feelings might run deeper than that?”

“I’d bet a lot on it. How could you expect a man like him to stand a chance against a woman like you? Have you seen yourself, Ingrid? You’re beautiful, brave, and passionate about all the same things he is. That’s a deadly combination.”

Ingrid’s face felt way too warm, and it certainly couldn’t be blamed on the weather. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess now, tripping over themselves to make heads or tails of the conversation. It didn’t happen terribly often, but Ingrid’s tongue was all tied up in knots. 

“And I was teasing a while ago, but I have to ask.” Dorothea leaned her head in, and her playful gaze hardened into something stern. “How do you really feel about him?”

It felt like time itself stood still as Ingrid searched for an answer, and she was coming up empty.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

Dorothea’s smile seemed warm and felt genuine. “You know, that’s all okay. These things can take time. But if you want some unsolicited advice—” 

“I do not.”

“Try and clear the air with him about this morning. Regardless of your feelings, it’ll do you both some good.”

“You’re right,” Ingrid sighed. “I’ll speak with him.”

“Good, because the boat ride would be terribly awkward if you two continue to act this way. Good luck!”

With one more affectionate pat on the shoulder, Dorothea strode forward and began to speak with their guide in Brigid’s tongue. The guide nodded enthusiastically, and Dorothea, seemingly satisfied, turned back to the two knights.

“Okay, listen up. We’re just going to take a short break, but we’re nearly at the river now. So drink some water, and please do not eat any strange berries you see hanging about!” the songstress called out.

Ingrid wiped the sweat from her brow before taking a swig from her waterskin. Ahead of her, Ashe took a long sip from his own waterskin before plopping down onto the dirt.

Before she could chicken out, Ingrid forced herself to walk over to him and take a seat on the ground beside him.

“Hey,” she said lamely.

“Hey,” Ashe replied.

“Listen,” she began. “About this morning—”

His eyes widened and almost looked panicked. “We don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to!”

“But I want to. I think it would be good for the two of us to just clear the air. I don’t want you to think poorly of me for something—”

“Think poorly of you?” Ashe let out some sort of strangled laugh while his face flushed a pale red. “Ingrid, I could never! I was worried you would think poorly of me!”

Ingrid could feel her jaw drop, and a short laugh clawed its way out of her lungs. “Ashe, I think the world of you. I thought I’d crossed some sort of line this morning, or that I’d made you feel uncomfortable with… you know, the accidental cuddling.”

Her cheeks suddenly burned with the memory of feeling wrapped up in him with her face buried in the crook of his neck rushing back into her mind.

“You know, I was scared of the same thing,” Ashe said softly while he stared a hole through his boots. “That I’d done something wrong. You’re the last person I want to do wrong, Ingrid.”

“I feel the same way, Ashe. At least this was all just a silly misunderstanding.”

“You’re right. You mean too much to me to lose over a silly misunderstanding.”

Ingrid paused and tried to find the words to say while something rattled like dice in her chest. Her tongue was tangled in knots, and her breath was stolen from her.

Before she could say anything, he looked up and at her and gave her his usual bright smile. “I’m glad we had this talk, so we can put this all behind us. Let’s just try to enjoy the rest of the day.”

She nodded along, unsure of why she was so hesitant to put it behind her in the first place.

* * *

“And we are arriving at the Sionainn.” Their guide held up a fist to signal a stop. “In our culture, this river is a blessed and sacred place. Its banks are being walked by the spirits of the river, the spirits of the trees, and the spirits of the flowers. Even the spirits of the soil, so do be watching where you are stepping.”

Ashe let out an appreciative whistle while Ingrid took a moment to examine the scenery around them. Although the forest may have been behind them, the lush greens extended far ahead to the other side of the river. Trees formed a seemingly impenetrable barrier on the other side, adding to the sacred atmosphere of the place that they found themselves in. Flowers provided splashes of vivid color in the gaps between the trees.

The canoe they climbed into felt like it was in no immediate danger of coming apart, so Ingrid allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Ashe was seated behind her, almost too close for comfort, what with the way their knees were barely brushing against each other.

Across from where Ingrid sat, Dorothea clicked her tongue at them and gestured to the paddles on the floor. “Go on, the boat won’t move itself.”

“But how will we know where to go?” Ashe asked as he picked up a paddle.

“Oh, we’ll tell you. We wouldn’t want you two to get lost,” Dorothea giggled.

Ingrid let her paddle break through the water, sending ripples across its blue-green stillness. With a slow lurch, their boat began to move away from the bank. The forest was silent, save for the sound of water splashing and the cries and calls of exotic birds mixing in a strange cacophony.

“The Sionainn is one of the most important rivers in all of Brigid,” Dorothea began. “Not so much economically, but spiritually.”

“This is correct.” The guide nodded. “It is a story passed down from generations that this was where the spirits first were walking when they visited Brigid. So we are believing that those spirits are still having a connection to this place.”

Ashe bowed his head respectfully. “Thank you for bringing us here. We feel honored.”

Dorothea waved him off with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t mention it. It’s an experience we want to share with everyone — to feel connected to nature, to feel the energy of the forest and the river coursing through you.”

“How exactly does that happen?” Ingrid asked.

“You just have to be letting it happen and let your mind be open to the energy,” the guide chimed in. “Be at peace, and be letting the energy flow through you.”

With a deep breath, Ingrid tried to clear her mind. The hush that surrounded them felt so much more solemn, and a calming energy washed over her like a wave. Even the birds were silent now, and only the gentle crashing of paddles through the water. The canoe crawled along like a solitary pilgrim on a quest for the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

With only the quiet for company, Ingrid was left alone with her thoughts raging in her head. Everything circled back to her conversation with Dorothea earlier. Ingrid had always known where she and Ashe stood with each other. They were two determined friends devoted to the same cause. 

Knighthood was a way of life, and there wasn’t much room for anything else. But being forced to slow down and take it easy left her mind with room for thoughts she didn’t normally entertain. They’d said as much last night — there was more to life than being knights.

She didn’t know what else there was for her to do for the rest of her life. Or how much of “the rest of her life” involved Ashe. A part of her didn’t want to know.

Time seemed to stand still as they travelled on, inching ever closer to a place they didn’t quite know yet. From up ahead, breaking past the vast expanse of the river, a cliff came into view. Its stone sides were weathered by storms and eroded by time. Despite its scars, it stood tall and imposing, nearly scraping against the sky.

“Ooh, we’re nearly where we need to be,” Dorothea spoke up. “You see that cave up ahead?”

Ashe and Ingrid craned their heads to see where Dorothea was pointing. Neatly chiseled away into the surface of the rock was a small, hidden cave just a walk away from the riverbank. Its entrance was nearly hidden away by dense foliage.

The boat slowed to a crawl before coming to a stop at the bank. Just outside the mouth of the cave, a lone statue stood watch.

“This cave is a sacred shine for the river spirits,” the guide explained as he climbed out of the boat. “It is being said that the first time two people who have trust in each other are visiting this cave, they can make a wish, and the spirits will grant it.”

Dorothea waggled her eyebrows at the two of them from where she sat, and Ingrid could feel her face heating up. As Ashe and Ingrid alighted from the boat and found themselves on dry land, their guide fished out a shallow wooden bowl from his bag.

“But before you two can be going inside, you must be scooping some water from the river and pour a little on the head of your companion, so that the river spirits will bless you.”

Without a sound, Ashe took the bowl and knelt by the water. When the bowl was filled with what seemed to be an appropriate amount of water, he got to his feet and gave Ingrid a tiny smile. She bowed her head and let the water trickle over her like rain. There was something oddly soothing about the whole affair, and she couldn’t fight the smile that was forming on her face while she wiped the water from her eyes. It felt like a sudden, pleasant warmth coursed through her veins when her fingers brushed against his when she took the bowl from him. Despite how solemn their surroundings were, she couldn’t help the giddiness that was taking root in her ribcage.

Kneeling down on the damp soil, Ingrid let the water flow between her fingertips for a moment before scooping more water with the bowl. She stood up slowly as Ashe bowed his head. With gentle, reverent motions, she poured the water on his face and watched droplets trace their way down his features before being brushed away by his fingers.

“My, you two are so serious!” Dorothea giggled from the boat. “But it’s nice to see. Most people just sort of giggle when they feel the water on them. Anyway, if you want to go make your wish, just head inside, find a place to sit together, and think of something nice.”

Ashe raised his hand. “Do we each get a wish or do we have to share?”

Dorothea frowned. “I think you have to share.”

“Alright, got it.” Ashe smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, Dorothea,” Ingrid said, and she and Ashe began to make their way towards it, brushing past the foliage that stood watch over the entrance.

From where they stood by the mouth, they could see the way the sunlight filtered through and lit up the inside. It wasn’t a terribly deep cave, and they could see the wall at the other end, barely illuminated but there all the same. Their footsteps reverberated against the walls, amplified by the crunch of soil and rock underneath their feet. 

“What should we wish for?” Ashe asked softly.

“I’m not sure. Did you have anything in mind?” Ingrid replied with a hushed whisper.

“Not particularly. Did you?”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t really think. Why don’t you try and think of something? Between the two of us, you’ve always been better with your words. I’m sure you’ll think of something nice.”

“Way to put me under pressure,” Ashe chuckled. “What if you don’t like what I wish for?”

“I highly doubt that will happen, Ashe. You’ve never let me down. You won’t right now.”

He blushed weakly, and the flush was barely visible in the dimness of the cave. “Alright, I think I’ve got it.”

He bowed his head, and his words came out in steady breaths. “I wish that no matter what happens, the two of us never lose our sense of purpose, our sense of duty, or our sense of who we are. That we always have something to believe in.”

His words hung in the air and cut straight through her. She couldn’t have wished for anything better. She couldn’t have shared this moment with anyone better. 

Throughout countless battles and long marches, throughout long nights and backbreaking days, Ashe had stood by her side. Driven by the same ambitions, the same passions, they were two kindred souls living the same dreams. Two companions walking the same paths together, unsure of the destination but happy with the company.

If she had to spend the rest of her life by his side, she wouldn’t have minded.

With her heart pounding in her ears, Ingrid placed a hand on his shoulder. “That was beautiful, Ashe. Thank you.”

He turned to face her and gave her a tiny smile, and his voice sounded so gentle and earnest. “Thank you for being here, Ingrid. I’m glad we got to do this together.”

All her words were stolen from her, and she only nodded and smiled back.

And when the light broke through the foliage and lit up the cave once more, the realization dawned on her like the sunlight: she was in love with Ashe. And she hadn’t the slightest clue what to do next.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe and Ingrid go to the Cóisir Mhór.

Ingrid didn’t know how, but she and Ashe got talked into staying in Brigid for the rest of the week. Truth be told, she didn’t mind so much. There was no shortage of things to do in Brigid. There was no shortage of ways to while away the time with pleasant company.

They’d gone fishing in crystal-clear waters, eaten a delectable assortment of fruit, and even bought necklaces made of seashells. The townspeople around the palace were eager to share their cultures, their livelihoods, and all the little pieces of themselves that tied them to the soil beneath their feet. There was something so casually enchanting about it all, and it left her feeling a brand new way. 

And as she sat on the shore, bathed in the golden light of a tropical sunset, she’d never felt more alive. The waves lapped at her bare feet, and the sand squished pleasantly between her toes. From up ahead, Ashe’s head broke through the water and he shot her a wide smile.

“You coming back into the water?” he called out.

She bit back a smile of her own. “I’ll think about it.”

“Come on.” He swam towards shore. “Just a few more minutes.”

“I’m resting,” she laughed. “Feels like we’ve been swimming the whole afternoon.”

“Not true.” He shook his head and chuckled. “We spent a lot of time making that sand castle.”

Ingrid turned her head to her left, towards the sandcastle they’d spent a good chunk of the afternoon building. What was meant to be the Royal Palace back in Fhirdiad had already started to crumble. It was still untouched by the tide, but any structural integrity it might have had at some point was damaged beyond repair. Ramparts and parapets of wet sand were slowly disintegrating, and many of the towers had already collapsed. 

“Good thing we’re knights and not engineers,” Ingrid giggled. “That’s got to be the crummiest rendition of the Royal Palace I’ve ever seen.”

Ashe feigned a hurt look as he got out of the water and plopped down on the sand beside her. “Have some more pride in your work. You are the queen of that palace, after all.”

Ingrid playfully whacked his arm. “Maybe the palace would’ve turned out better if the king didn’t add too much water to the mix.”

“In my defense, the sand you were using was way too dry. Had no hold whatsoever.” He bumped his shoulder against hers and let out a little laugh.

The waves crashed against their feet, and the deep purples of the sunset crept across the skies of a dying day. Everything was painted in warm shades of golden sunshine, adding a pretty filter to an already gorgeous view of the sea. 

“What do you think’s going to happen at the Cóisir Mhór tomorrow?” Ashe asked.

“Not a clue,” Ingrid replied. “I just hope there’s food.”

His laugh was bright and cheery, just like the rest of him. “I hope so, too. Saints, how are we ever going to eat the food they serve back home? We’ve been spoiled, I’m telling you.”

“We’ll forget all about that when we’re back on deployment and we’re eating gruel for days on end.”

They sat in silence for a while, content to let the sounds of the sea fill their ears. The seabreeze felt fresh and foreign in Ingrid’s lungs, and she let grains of sand slip in between her fingers as she rested her hands on the ground.

“This sunset makes everything look so pretty,” Ashe said softly beside her. “Everything looks like a painting.”

Ingrid’s breath caught in her throat when she turned to look at him — the sunset was bringing out the flecks of gold in his eyes. His grey hair was perfectly tousled by the seabreeze, and the sea clung to his skin in little droplets like dew. If everything looked like a painting, Ashe looked like a masterpiece.

“Everything here is beautiful.” She nodded her head.

He cracked a tiny smile and turned his eyes towards the sea. “We should come back here soon.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah,” he said gently and turned back to look at her. “Someday, when we’re not terribly busy. Just come back here to look at the sun rise over the sea every morning and bask in every sunset. Just like this.”

Ingrid fought to keep her voice steady and even. “We should.”

“On my honor as a knight,” Ashe said and made a big show of bowing his head, “I’ll bring you back here to Brigid someday.”

“On my honor as a knight,” Ingrid said solemnly, “I’ll follow you back here.”

The smile he gave her was warmer and brighter than the afternoon sun.

* * *

The next day, Ashe and Ingrid were brought back to the palace, only for Ashe to be yanked off into some room, leaving Ingrid behind in the foyer.

“We’ll just be getting him all dressed up for the Cóisir Mhór. We’ll call you in when it’s your turn,” Dorothea said slyly before disappearing.

With only her thoughts for company, Ingrid began to pace restlessly around the room, and the sound of her sandals against the stone floor rang out. Her unspoken confession weighed heavy on her mind. Ashe, with all his casual charm and infectious enthusiasm, had stolen her heart. And if Dorothea could be believed, Ingrid might have stolen his at some point. She just didn’t know if she still had it.

She didn’t know how long she’d spent wrapped up in her own head, but Dorothea’s voice soon cut through the reverie.

“Ingrid! You’re up!”

Swallowing nervously, Ingrid stepped into the room while Dorothea’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Once we get you all dressed up,” Dorothea whispered, “he will _not_ be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Dorothea!” Ingrid chided, and the songstress only laughed brightly.

“Have the two of you professed your undying love towards each other yet?” 

“Okay, that is such a—”

“So you haven’t. Okay, tonight should fix all of that. Have a seat, won’t you?”

Ingrid hesitantly took a seat while Dorothea prattled on excitedly.

“The Cóisir Mhór is a _very_ big deal for the people of Brigid, and you two are honored guests, so you’ll have to dress up a bit, but don’t worry! I took the liberty of picking out a dress for you, although Petra did help with that. We picked something nice out for Ashe as well.”

“Where is Ashe?”

The smile on Dorothea’s face widened into a cheeky grin. “Oh, you’ll see him soon enough. But for now, let us work a little magic on you.”

* * *

Ingrid stared at her reflection in the mirror in awe. Despite her initial misgivings, Dorothea and her assistant hadn’t gone overboard with the makeup, and instead they left Ingrid looking and feeling like a princess. The sundress Dorothea picked out for her was a lush and verdant shade of green that reminded Ingrid of the forest (“it matches your eyes,” Dorothea had said). It almost felt like too much.

“What do you think?” Dorothea asked apprehensively.

Ingrid turned to her and gave her a warm smile. “Everything looks amazing, Dorothea. It’s a lot to take in, and—”

“Nonsense! This is a big deal, and we want to make you look like the beautiful and gallant knight you are.” Dorothea waved her off. “Now pick an arm. Left or right?”

“Right. Why?”

“Because we’re going to mark you. Nothing permanent, of course! But this ink is very special to Brigid, and before the Cóisir Mhór it’s customary for unmarked people to get their very first marks. Ashe got one, in case you were wondering.”

Ingrid glanced at her bare forearms. “What will it say?”

“That, Ingrid, is for you to pick. It just has to be meaningful, something you hold dear to your heart.”

Something meaningful and dear to her heart — that left her with a lot of options. The most obvious choice was knighthood. But what exactly _about_ knighthood? Her mind raced as she remembered all the stories she’d read, and how each story brought her one step closer to her dreams.

“Can it be a quote?”

“Of course,” Dorothea replied. “I’ll have to translate it, but if it means that much to you, then I'd be happy to.”

Ingrid took a deep breath; the words were forever etched into her memory and scrawled across her heart like a motto.

“Life is not measured in years, but by the deeds of men.”

Dorothea smirked at her. “What a beautiful sentiment, Ingrid. You’re _such_ a knight.”

“It’s from _The Sword of Kyphon_ ,” Ingrid began. “Before the—”

“You’ll have to tell me about it some other time,” Dorothea cut her off before calling out for an assistant.

Ingrid watched in silent admiration as the artist skillfully drew lines and shapes across her forearm. Her fair skin was stained with vivid violet geometry, the shapes and lines of Brigid’s language. Each touch of ink was precise and delicate, and the mark grew more intricate in detail. When the band around her forearm was done and the message inside was written, the artist let out an appreciative sigh and bowed deeply to Ingrid.

“Thank you,” Ingrid said softly. “It looks beautiful.”

She held her arm to the light and admired the meticulous and sleek lines that adorned her forearm. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Dorothea asked and placed a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder. “Real masters of their craft.”

Ingrid nodded while she flexed her arm hesitantly. “I’m worried I might ruin this somehow.”

“Oh, it’s dry already. It’ll stay on your skin for four to six weeks—”

“Four to six weeks?!”

“Anyway, I have to finish getting ready now, so just head out that door to your right, and you’ll find your special friend just hanging about. Bye!”

Ingrid was all but shoved out of the room, and the door slammed shut behind her. Finding herself in an unfamiliar hallway, she took a few cautious steps forward until she rounded a corner. The golden rays of the sunset lit up the hallway as it shined through the spaces between the archways that lined the walls and led to the balcony. Just outside, she spied a familiar figure leaning over the railing with his eyes set towards the sky. The sun was a dull red that was slowly being swallowed by the ocean in the horizon.

“Ashe,” she called out softly.

He turned to face her, and his eyes widened in awe. “Ingrid!”

In a much more gentle voice, he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Her face burned while her heart soared in her chest. “You think so?”

He nodded and gave her a sheepish smile. “I mean, you’ve always been beautiful, but tonight, even more so.”

“Thank you. Dorothea helped. A lot,” she said and walked up to the railing beside him. “You look great, too.”

“Dorothea helped. A lot,” he chuckled nervously. “But thank you.”

His face was now turning a faint shade of pink that matched perfectly with the sunset behind him. He smoothed the fabric of his deep blue shirt with his palm while the other hand scratched at the back of his neck.

“I heard you got marked,” Ingrid said.

His eyes lit up in excitement. “Oh, I did! Did you?”

She held out her arm excitedly, and little sparks of electricity danced underneath her skin when his fingers brushed against the ink. 

“I wasn’t sure at first of what to put,” Ingrid shyly admitted. “In the end, I went with one of Loog’s greatest lines: ‘Life is not measured in years…’”

“‘… but by the deeds of men,’” Ashe continued, his voice hazy and reverent. “From his speech before the War of the Eagle and the Lion.”

“Right as always.” Ingrid grinned. “What about you? What did you get?”

In response, he wordlessly outstretched his left arm so that it ran parallel to hers. She studied it, letting her eyes roam across the intricate details on his skin. Every line, every dot, every curve was so precise, so exact. The deep violet stood out clearly against his fair skin. 

Side by side, his mark looked an awful lot like hers.

“Life is not measured in years.” Ashe smiled at her.

“I guess we’re kindred souls,” she giggled and nudged his shoulder with her own. 

He blushed again and let out a little laugh. “I guess we are. I like the sound of that, though.”

His olive green eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunset, and Ingrid’s breath caught in her throat when her gaze met his.

Now was as good a time as any, she supposed.

“I don’t think I’ve told you since we’ve arrived here.” Her voice was coming out in a breathy, unsteady whisper that was nearly lost in the hubbub of the town below them. “But I’m glad it’s you, Ashe. I’m glad I got to experience all of this with you. There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck on a tropical paradise with.”

“You didn’t need to say that.” His words, like everything else about him, were straight and sincere.

“I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”

“Ingrid.” The sound of him saying her name like that, low and heartfelt, sent sparks running down her spine. “You mean so much to me. Perhaps more than you’ll ever know.”

She was leaning in towards him now, and she felt herself straining on tiptoes to bring herself closer to him and lose herself in his eyes. Without a sound, Ashe brought his head in towards her. They were but inches apart now, and if they got any closer, then—

The sharp crash of a gong cut through the air and left Ingrid jumping out of her skin and away from him like startled prey. 

“Gah!” Ashe yelped, and his nervous chuckle mirrored the anxiety that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Any and all momentum she thought she had was gone, and something dangerously close to frustration welled within her chest. Beside her, Ashe’s cheeks were now burning deep crimson.

“Ashe, Ingrid?” Dorothea’s voice called out to them from the hallway. “The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Ashe nodded his head towards the archway that led away from the balcony and into the hall. “Shall we go?”

Fighting to keep her voice steady, Ingrid nodded back. “Let’s go.”

* * *

When Dorothea and Petra said that the Cóisir Mhór was a big event, they weren’t underselling it.

In the middle of what was ostensibly the palace courtyard was an array of tables, perfectly arranged and aligned to leave a wide and open space in the middle, providing enough space for activities that hopefully did not involve dancing.

Ashe and Ingrid watched as a parade, complete with a storm of flower petals and drum beats that pounded at their ears, marched its way around the palace, all decked out in bright and vibrant hues that made the sunset seem that much livelier. After that was a very meticulously choreographed fire-dancing routine where the sky lit up with little whirlwinds of flame. Dancers twirled torches in the air with a fluid and effortless grace that it was a wonder that none of them caught fire.

The raucous applause only faded when Dorothea and Petra took center stage and the Queen began to speak in Brigid’s highly complicated language.

Neither Ingrid nor Ashe spoke a lick of Brigid’s language, but when the applause returned and Dorothea and Petra bowed gracefully, they assumed the speech was over. As soon as the speech was over, servants descended upon the tables with trays topped with cups. Ingrid watched as two wooden drinking cups were placed in front of her and Ashe. From where she sat, she could already make out the faint traces of alcohol that lingered in the air.

Ashe reached out for his cup and brought it close to his nose. “I’m getting hints of honey, lime, and booze from this little concoction.”

“It’s been too long since we’ve had a proper drink, anyhow,” Ingrid laughed and grabbed her own cup. “Cheers, Ashe?”

His cup clinked noisily against hers as he beamed at her with a wide smile. “Cheers, Ingrid.”

The first thing Ingrid noticed when she took a sip was that the drink was warm, both in serving temperature and in the way that the alcohol buzzed pleasantly as it went down. It was a delicious mix of sweetness, sourness, and fire that burned in the most agreeable way.

Heaping platters of food found their way to the table shortly after, and Ingrid marvelled at the meal set before her. Shellfish, fish, grilled chicken and roasted pork, all seasoned with tropical flavors and spices, waited atop her plate. She dipped her hands in the bowl of water in front of her and gave Ashe a tiny smile.

“Ingrid,” he began with an eager grin on his face, “you and I might just be knights, but tonight, I think we can feast like kings.”

And feast like kings they did.

Every bite was cooked to perfection, every morsel seasoned perfectly. The seafood tasted fresh, the roasted pork skin cracked with a crisp and satisfying _crunch_ , and the cocktail they’d been given washed everything down nicely. Ingrid was no lightweight by any stretch of the imagination, but at some point her head started to feel cloudy with a strange mix of alcohol and bottled-up feelings. Beside her, Ashe leaned back in his chair and let out a few heavy sighs of his own.

“How are you two feeling?” Dorothea asked as she excitedly approached their table. “Did you enjoy everything so far?”

“Everything’s been amazing,” Ashe replied. “From the parade to the performance with the fire, to the food.”

“Did you two try the drinks?”

Ingrid nodded. “Yeah, but it feels a lot stronger than—”

“Good!” Dorothea clapped her hands excitedly. “I’m glad you did, because you two are going to dance in a bit.”

“Dance?” Ashe sputtered incredulously and just about fell out of his chair. “With what choreography?”

“Oh, you two will figure it out soon enough. Have fun!”

And as Dorothea all but pranced away, a slow and steady drumbeat began to play and people began to file into the space in front of them. Elsewhere, lutes and harps began to play enchanting notes in a key Ingrid had never heard before. There was something strangely hypnotizing about the way people swayed in time with the music.

From where she sat, Ingrid could see Dorothea smiling wickedly at them. There was a shifting to her side, and before she could look, Ashe’s outstretched hand entered her field of vision.

“Dame Ingrid,” he said softly as he bowed. “Bravest knight in His Majesty’s service, would you do me the honor of sharing a dance with me?”

Her pulse quickened and her heartbeat pounded at her ears. She let her eyes roam up his outstretched arm, studying the pattern etched on it like sacred geometry. Her hand wrapped itself around his and she made her way to her feet.

“Sir Ashe.” She bowed. “I would be honored if you share this dance with me.”

He smiled widely, tenderly at that and led her to the dance floor. “I must warn you, though. I don’t think I’m sober enough to get the moves right.”

“Neither am I,” she giggled. “But if it’s with you, I don’t mind.”

In a valiant attempt to mimic the fluid and graceful motions all around them, she kept her hand tangled up with his, and her other hand found its way to his shoulder. She felt him place a hand on her waist, leaving a pleasant warmth burning just underneath his touch. In time with the steady percussion, they began to sway and step in a more or less coordinated fashion.

Despite the unfamiliar steps, there was something steadying about the way Ashe held her close to him. Her heart beat in sync with the beat they danced to. Every motion and every move stole the breath from her lungs.

All around them, partners began to spin and twirl under the steadfast guidance of their companions. Sensing what was coming next, Ingrid let out a bright giggle and shook her head vehemently.

“You better not twirl me, Ashe.”

“Too late.” He grinned, and before Ingrid knew it, the world was spinning in a dizzying blur of colors and lights. The sound of his laughter cut through the chaos like the sweetest sound. And then she felt herself stumble.

When the world came back into focus, she could feel his arm supporting her and stopping her from hitting the floor. She looked up at him, and his fair features stood out against the deep expanse of the night sky. There were constellations to be discovered in his freckles if she just searched hard enough, and his eyes seemed to twinkle brighter than any star in the night sky. They stayed still, unmoving for an excruciatingly long split second. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled nervously while he slowly blinked. “Couldn’t resist.”

Ingrid swallowed thickly and tried to avoid drowning in the oceans in his eyes. “I didn’t mind.”

“Then, Dame Ingrid,” he said as he righted her up to her feet, “I’d be honored if you didn’t mind sharing another dance with me.”

“Sir Ashe,” she replied softly. “I’d dance with you until the end of the night if you asked.”

“Don’t give me any dangerous ideas; I might just take you up on that."

* * *

They danced until the end of the night. With weary bones, aching legs, and tired smiles, Ashe and Ingrid made their way back to their little slice of the shore.

Ingrid let the waves rush over her feet as she stood by the shore, watching the reflections of the stars come undone with the motions of the sea.

“Crazy week,” Ashe chuckled lightly as he walked up beside her. 

“I feel that’s understating it somewhat.”

He let out a little laugh at that and nodded his head. “And to think, by tomorrow we’ll be on our way back to Faerghus, back in His Majesty’s service.”

“Remind me that we need to take a little detour to Gautier before we return to Fhirdiad.” Ingrid smirked and looked at him.

“I’d never let you forget it.”

They stood still again, and all of Ingrid’s thoughts were drowned out by the crashing waves. All she could think of was how alive she’d felt the whole night with Ashe by her side, and that little moment that was stolen from them. What she wouldn’t give to have seen it to completion.

“Tonight was really great, Ashe. Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” He cracked a little smile at her. “We’re kinda stuck with each other for now, but even if we weren’t, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Ingrid could feel her heart creeping up to her throat, pulled along by words unsaid that threatened to spill out into the sea. 

“I’ve been thinking of that conversation we had,” Ashe said and turned his gaze to the stars. “About finding more to life. Finding something else to live for. And you know what I realized?”

She couldn’t mask the quiver in her voice. “What?”

He took a deep breath and looked at her. “I’d very much like to spend the rest of my life with you, Ingrid.”

“Ashe.” Ingrid’s voice was barely a whisper now. “You… you know what that sounds like, yeah? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He nodded imperceptibly. “I guess I am. Ingrid, I lo—”

The only reason he never finished his sentence was because Ingrid rushed to press her lips against his. She melted against him, and the rush of feelings threatened to sweep her off her feet. 

And when she pulled away, Ashe was wearing the giddiest, goofiest grin on his face. “I’ve wanted that for a very long time now.”

“You have?” she asked.

“Of course I have. Ingrid, you’re my dream girl.”

Had anyone else said this, she would have recoiled in disgust and disdain (a lifetime of hanging around Sylvain would do that to any sane person). But to hear these words from Ashe, who only ever spoke with such unbridled honesty, left her head spinning in a dizzyingly amazing way. 

“I’ve always thought you were amazing, even back in school,” Ashe continued while a pretty pink bloomed on his cheeks. “But seeing you chase your dreams and carve your own path — I was a goner after that.”

She giggled like some excited school-girl and pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“I think I’ve always loved you, Ashe. It just took me a while to find the words for it. You’ve always been there for me. Every step of this long journey, you’ve been there. I feel safe with you. I feel like I’m where I belong when I’m with you.”

He pressed his forehead against her own and stared into her eyes. “You sound like a story, Ingrid.”

“Well, you make me feel like one.”

And so they stood, wrapped up in each other while the moon and stars smiled down on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with stealing 40k quotes to use as tattoos.
> 
> Right after this is a short epilogue!


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue.

“Aww, you’re such a good kitty, aren’t you, Emile,” Sylvain chuckled as he stroked the cat’s cream colored fur. In response, Emile purred appreciatively in his lap. 

“I think you spoil him too much,” Mercedes chided with a giggle before sipping her tea.

“I can’t help it. He’s a part of our little family.”

She raised a delicate and demure eyebrow at him but smiled all the same.

The sound of heavy-set footsteps ringing out across the pavilion caused Sylvain to turn his head. One of the many servants of the castle was hastily making his way towards him.

“My lord!” the servant cried, out of breath. “You have visitors.”

“Visitors?” Mercedes asked, apparent concern laced through her voice.

“Visitors, my lady,” the servant replied. “Two of the king’s knights.”

“Knights, you say?” Sylvain asked and leaned back in his chair.

The servant nodded. “Very sunburnt knights, might I add. With strange markings on their arms.”

“Well show them in,” the margrave replied. “And tell them I’ve been expecting them. Maybe have the kitchen prepare a cheese platter or something. Whatever you guys can whip up.”

“Right away, my lord.” The servant bowed deeply and raced off to wherever it was he was supposed to go. Sylvain watched him dash off before shooting Mercedes a wide and dazzling smile.

“Mercedes, love and light of my life, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It would seem my day of reckoning has arrived.”

“Oh, hush. When did you get so dramatic?” she laughed lightly and placed a hand on his.

“Dear, you know just as well as I do the kind of ass-whooping that’s coming my way.”

“An ass-whooping that you brought onto yourself.”

“An ass-whooping I’d gladly recount at their wedding.” He smirked and lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers. “Unfortunately, I’m scheduled to be back in Fhirdiad at the end of the week. Be a darling and heal any black eyes I get?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Mercedes replied with a tender smile. “I’d heal your black eyes any day.”

“That’s reassuring.” The margrave cracked a toothy, lopsided grin at the margravine as he spied two very sunburnt knights racing towards him. “Alas, it’s time for me to reap what I have sown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes this little story. 
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking around and reading! This was a lot of fun for me to write, and I hope you guys got a kick out of this! Feedback and comments are appreciated!
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
